


Six Ways From Sunday

by fayth (zanarkand)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gang Rape, Gen, Hurt Noctis Lucis Caelum, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rape Aftermath, Unintentional Victim Blaming, Vomiting, brotherhood era, very mild self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-26 14:32:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13859724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanarkand/pseuds/fayth
Summary: He fumbles with the tablet, trying to turn the video off, but he's shaking and his fingers keep missing, so he finally just shoves it away from him, back towards Gladio. He feels sick to his stomach. He doesn't remember seeing any of them with a camera or phone in hand last night, doesn't remember being recorded, but there it is online for the whole world to see. All of Eos is going to see the Crown Prince of Lucis getting fucked six ways from Sunday.Written for Hurt Noct Week Day 3: Someone takes and/or shares pictures or videos of Noct without his knowledge or consent.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I feel kind of bad for this one. Sorry, Noct.
> 
> Anyways, please heed the tags! Noct's fifteen in this, and there's somewhat descriptive rape. There's no pairings other than the non-consensual ones with OCs. This is a specific prompt on the master list: "Getting drugged and raped while the whole thing is recorded–and someone posts the video online" (...okay fine that was my prompt shut up) but then I also went with a comment someone else added in an ask: "Can I add to one I saw? Noct being drugged and raped and it being videotaped and then that being put online, everyone thinks it was consensual because of how drugged out he was."

Coming to this party was a mistake.

It hadn't seemed so bad, when Prompto was first asking—begging, really. He's never been to a high school party, and if nothing else, he'd figured being able to have the experience would make it worth breaking the rules and going without permission. But he hadn't counted on his best friend ditching him to go chat up some girl half an hour after arriving. 

Now Noct's alone, standing awkwardly along the wall as everyone else around him drinks and dances to the loud music thrumming throughout the house—basically they're all having a good time, something which he's not doing. He's not friends with anyone here, and most of his classmates are either too in awe or too full of hatred for him to approach and try to strike up a conversation. 

He sighs, looking around the room as he wonders exactly where Prompto's gone off to. Maybe he should just go home. Prompto probably won't notice his absence. He could call Ignis to come pick him up, and though Ignis would lecture him about sneaking off to a party, it'd still be worth it to go home and not have to deal with feeling so socially out of place. 

"You look bored," someone says suddenly, shoving a drink into his hands. 

Noct blinks, caught off guard, and fumbles to not drop the cup. He looks up into a face he doesn't recognise—an extremely attractive face, one that makes a hint of arousal curl up low in his belly, his dick giving an interested twitch. He flushes and prays to the Astrals that he doesn't get a boner. 

"A little," he admits, sipping politely at the drink before glancing up. The guy's taller than Noct, and looks to be a little older, maybe sixteen or seventeen. Not one of Noct's classmates then. 

"Your friend abandon you? You two are usually thick as thieves at school," the guy says, smiling at him, and oh, it's a nice smile. Noct feels his stomach flutter. 

"Prompto? He went to go talk to some girl," Noct says, taking another drink and trying not to make a face. He's no stranger to alcohol, having tried it over the past year during a few important functions the Citadel's held, but he's used to fine wines and top-shelf liquors, not whatever cheap beer is being served in this plastic cup. 

Still, the guy took the time to bring it to him, and he's talking to him like a normal person instead of fawning all over him, so drinking it is the least Noct can do. And it helps him not feel so nervous about the growing attraction he's experiencing for this guy. 

"Well that's a shame, but lucky for me I suppose, because now I have a chance to talk to you." 

Noct frowns at that, upset enough by the words to ignore his good looks for the moment. "If you're just here because you're looking for an in with the prince—" 

"No, no, you misunderstand me," the guy says hastily, interrupting him and giving him another charming smile. "I don't care who you are, that you're the prince, I just wanted a chance to talk to the most gorgeous guy in this room." 

Noct flushes, even as he internally rolls his eyes. He takes another large gulp of beer, turning his head away. This guy can't be serious. "What's your name?" he asks abruptly, looking back at him. 

"Marcus," the newly named Marcus says, smiling easily at him again. "And you're Noctis. Now we have a good start to getting to know each other." 

Noct's frown deepens. He doesn't know what to do. Ignis and Gladio would be suspicious immediately, and he can admit to himself he's not sure of Marcus' motivations either. And standing here trying to talk is almost more awkward than standing alone. However, Noct's not completely oblivious. Whatever else he might want, Marcus is clearly trying to flirt with him, possibly looking to hook up. 

And well, Noct's been curious lately, both about sex and his sexuality. He's nearly sixteen and horny all the time, and relying on his own hand gets old after awhile. As the prince, he can't go out and experiment with strangers whenever he wants, or date without it being some huge media spectacle, but if there's a chance tonight to maybe be discreetly jerked off by a hand that _isn't_ his own, without the news getting out to all of Insomnia, Noct doesn't mind taking it. Ignis and Gladio would disapprove, he knows, but Noct's been chafing at all the rules and restrictions surrounding his life, and surely what they don't know won't hurt them. 

Of course, there's also the risk that _Noct_ might get hurt, but Marcus seems pretty sincere. And Noct really just wants to do something for himself for once, without having to think about how it will reflect on his image, or the kingdom, or his dad. Besides, it's not like he's stupid enough to go off with Marcus somewhere. As long as they stay at the party, he figures he'll be safe enough. It seems worth it. 

The only problem is, Noct's _terrible_ at flirting. He's never really had a chance to try it, so he has no idea how to go about it. But then, if Marcus is already interested in him, maybe it doesn't matter. 

"So... how old are you?" he asks, and then cringes at how lame that is. 

"Old enough," Marcus says. Noct's not sure what that means. He takes another drink and tries desperately to think of something else to say, something smooth and funny that will have Marcus laughing and dying to kiss Noct, the way Noct wants to kiss him. 

The thought makes him flush, and he feels really unlike himself. Flustered, he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. "Do you like games?" Oh _Astrals_ , what kind of question is that? He needs to stop talking. But Marcus is studying him intently, his beautiful green eyes raking slowly over him, and it makes Noct's pulse race, his heart thudding loudly in his chest. He has the distinct feeling that Marcus is undressing him in his mind. Noct swallows, then drains his cup. 

"Oh, I very much love games," Marcus finally answers, grinning and running a hand through his perfectly styled dirty blond hair. Noct watches him, and thinks about running his own fingers through that hair. 

And yet—something about the grin feels off. Noct doesn't have time to contemplate it, however, as a sudden wave of nausea hits him. Dizziness slams into him out of nowhere, and he sways, his empty cup falling from his hand as his grip goes slack. His head starts pounding, the loud bass of the music drilling painfully into his skull. He winces, raising a hand to his temple, then halting as another wave of nausea swims through him. 

The lights suddenly feel bright, too bright, hurting his eyes and making the pain in his head intensify. He groans, squeezing them shut. 

"Hey, you okay?" Marcus asks, concern lacing his tone, but it doesn't sound right. He can't pinpoint why. 

"Fine," Noct gasps, but he's not fine at all. Something's wrong. He needs to go home. He needs to call Ignis. As soon as he stops feeling like he's going to vomit uncontrollably at any moment. 

"Here, let's get you to a bathroom. You look like you're about to be sick, and I doubt you want it to happen in front of all these people." 

Noct nods, allowing himself to be led through the crowds of people towards the back of the house. It's a large house, and the area they head towards is away from the party, and more importantly, the lights and the music. The quiet helps some, easing his pain just a little. 

"Here," Marcus says, opening a door for him, and Noct walks into the dark room without a second thought. 

It's only when he hears the quiet _snick_ of tumblers falling into place, Marcus in the room with him, does he realise that things are more wrong than he'd first thought. A spark of fear jolts throughout his body, and he turns back to the door. "Marcus, what—?" 

"This him?" It's a second voice, one Noct doesn't recognise, and he spins back around, straining to see into the darkness. Lights flip on, making him squint, and then the fear deepens when he sees four or five other people in the room with him, a room that is decidedly _not_ a bathroom. 

"Yep. Told you he'd be an easy target," Marcus says, and Noct whirls without thinking, shoving past Marcus and throwing himself at the door, scrabbling desperately for the lock. Out, he needs to get _out_ , to get _away_ , he's not sure what they want to do to him but he _knows_ it won't be good— 

Marcus grabs him by the arm, yanking him away easily and flinging him towards the bed in the centre of the room. Noct hits it at an angle, back slamming into the edge, and gasps at the scrape of the mattress on his old scars before he crumples down to the floor. Someone laughs, but he ignores them as he tries to stumble to his feet. It's not working so well, his whole body has turned to jelly, and the nausea and dizziness are worse, leaving him woozy and sluggish. 

Hands land on him, pulling at him, and he snarls, wanting to push them away, but he can't get his body to cooperate properly. His vision's going blurry, and he can't see who all is touching him. Fear and panic are rising in him. He doesn't know what's wrong with him, but he doesn't like it. The hands pick him up and toss him on the bed, the movement sending another spike of pain into his already aching head. 

"Stop," he says, but the word comes out slightly slurred. 

"That shit works fast," someone else says, and it hits Noct then, what's wrong with him—he's been drugged. It must have been the drink, the beer Marcus gave him. He closes his eyes in despair, his breathing coming a little faster as he faces the truth. He's been drugged, they're going to hurt him, and he has no way out of it. His body's not working right, and he can't fight back, can't scream for help, can't run away. 

More hands are on him, pulling at his clothes, lifting him this way and that until he's completely bared before them. Noct chokes down a sob. Of course this is what they want. They're going to use his body as they see fit, taking their own pleasure without any regards to whether he wants it. 

He thinks about the Armiger, and the small dagger he'd managed to store in there the other day. He's still learning how to use the magic, but if he can just get the dagger out, and get his body to work somehow, then maybe... 

"Huh, smaller than I expected. Figured a prince would have a bigger dick." 

"Guess he's no better 'n us after all." 

Noct feels his cheeks burn with shame. He tries to move his arms over, to cover himself with his hands, but they lay uselessly at his side, unmoving. "Please—" 

"Please what?" Marcus asks, standing over him. 

_Please don't do this, please let me go, please don't rape me_ , he thinks, but all that comes out is that one, single word again. "Please." 

"Well, if you insist," Marcus says, and wraps a warm hand around his dick. 

Noct shudders. 

Marcus' actions seem to be the cue for everyone else to move. It's not long before there are several sets of hands on him, running all over his body, fingers touching and twisting his nipples, shoving into his mouth, tangling into his hair, groping at his balls, prodding at his ass. None of them are gentle, and Noct's soon a confused mess of emotions and sensations. The whole room's going weird, a little hazy and surreal, and he's unable to focus on anything except what's being done to his body. 

It hurts. He doesn't want this at all, his body _and_ his heart ache with all that's he suffering, he's humiliated and ashamed and _hates_ it, and yet twinges of arousal keep rushing through him, his dick half-hard as they all keep touching him. "Please," he says again, and he's repeating it, unable to stop, his voice high-pitched and desperate and still slurred, the word occasionally turning into a moan when little sparks of unwanted pleasure hit him. 

One girl crouches over him, straddling him as she lowers herself to his mouth, squeezing his face tight between her thighs. "Here, occupy that pretty little mouth of yours," she says, and begins to grind roughly down on him. 

In a consensual situation, Noct might have enjoyed such a thing. Now, in this moment, he just wants to throw up. She's wet and slick all over him, the taste of her smearing across his lips, and her smell is overwhelming, seeping insidiously through his nostrils. Her thighs are pressing painfully into his cheeks, and she's not letting up as she continues to grind, rolling her hips all around. He feels smothered, struggling to draw in a full breath, his lungs urgently screaming for him to breathe, his head dizzy from the lack of oxygen and being drugged. 

Finally she lifts herself up long enough for him to suck in a quick breath of air, and he does so gratefully, only to have a sob swallowed as she lowers herself again. 

Someone spreads his legs, lifting one up and out of the way, and then they're in him, thrusting deep in one quick motion. He screams, the sound swallowed but making the girl on his face moan, her body shuddering as orgasm apparently hits her. She moves off him, and a guy moves in to take her place, shoving himself down Noct's throat, making him gag. 

Time becomes a hazy blur as they all continue to use him, taking turns fucking him endlessly until he's raw and aching and torn open, wetness trickling steadily out of him. He doesn't know whether it's semen or blood, but he's not sure he wants to. The two girls switch off on riding his dick and his face, both coming several times. He nearly vomits on all the dicks that get rammed into his mouth, choking continuously as they drive in too deep. 

A few times, he finds himself shuddering through his own orgasms, moaning as they're ripped from him unwillingly, intense pleasure rippling through him and making him want to die. One of those times is in one of the girls, and all he thinks, wildly, is, _please don't let her get pregnant_. 

Someone leans down by his head, whispering in his ear, hot breath tickling against him and making him shiver. "Not so high and mighty now, are ya, Prince of Lucis? Now you're just a common whore, begging like the wanton slut you are for all of us to fuck you." 

"Please," he mumbles, the word slurred enough to be barely comprehensible. His brain's fogged, overloaded by the drugs and everything that's happening to him, and it's the only coherent thing he can manage. 

"Ah, see, begging even now. You've already came three times, and yet you still want more?" 

" _Please_ ," he tries again, and then moans lowly when someone's mouth wraps around his dick, taking him in deep. He sobs and futilely tries to make his body squirm away, the heat and wetness enveloping him too much to handle, his body long past the point of over-stimulation. 

"Hey Marcus, let up a minute, I wanna try something." 

The mouth on Noct disappears, making him sob again, this time in relief. 

"What?" 

"Two in one," comes the gleeful response, and Noct's eyes widen. He frantically sends signals to his body to _move_ , to fight and not let them do that, but it still stubbornly refuses to cooperate. He tries again to summon his dagger from the Armiger, visualising it materialising in his hand, but the magic's unresponsive. 

"Please," he whines, but they ignore him, manoeuvring him into position before one of them slides into him. At this point, he's so open and torn that it barely hurts anymore, and he makes a low noise in the back of his throat, around the dick that's now there. 

But then the second one presses against him, slowly forcing its way in alongside the first, splitting him wide, and it _burns_. He feels wetness slide out of him, and this time he's sure it's blood. He wants to scream, but the pain is so great he can only groan, gasping in agony with each new centimetre gained. 

Oh gods, he can't do this, it hurts too badly, he just wants to go home, he wants Ignis and Gladio to show up and rescue him, he wants his dad to come and kill every last one of them, whatever, he doesn't care as long as he doesn't have to endure this anymore— 

There's a mouth on each of his nipples, biting him hard, and fingers clawing down his chest, across his stomach, and then someone puts their mouth back on his dick, their tongue dipping into his slit, and it's too much, his body's too confused by the mix of pain and pleasure it's being put through, and it doesn't know which way to react. His vision whites out as he orgasms hard, trembling head to toe from the sensations, and then the world fades away as he at last mercifully blacks out. 

* * *

When Noct comes to, he's alone in the room. He's naked still. Everything hurts. It's dark out, and after squinting at a clock on the nearby nightstand, he sees it's around three in the morning. The house is still and quiet, the party probably long over. Slowly, he tries to move his arm, relieved when his body responds to his command, although it feels sort of wobbly still. 

Gingerly, he gets out of the bed, finding his clothes scattered around the room and pulling them on one by one. He's relieved to find his phone still in his jeans pocket, and checks it to find a few missed texts from Prompto. 

_where r u_

_Nooooooct_

_Im ready 2 go home...did u already leave??_

_guess u did...sry for ditching u :(_

Noct swallows, tears pricking at his eyes. He knows it's not really Prompto's fault, but he finds he's mad at his best friend just the same. Had Prompto not abandoned him, maybe Marcus wouldn't ever have approached him, and this whole horrible night wouldn't have happened. 

He picks his way through the house back to the front door, skirting around drunk and passed out people here and there. It's cold when he gets outside, a chill wind blowing harshly against his exposed skin, and he shivers, wrapping his arms around himself, wishing he had a jacket. 

Briefly, he considers calling and asking Ignis him to come get him, but Ignis would want to know why he's out at three in the morning, and Noct's not sure he can explain at the moment. At least not without breaking down into a pathetic sobbing mess. 

So he makes his way home slowly, trying to ignore all the aches and pains his body is giving off, and just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other until he finally reaches his building. As soon as he makes it into his apartment, he heads straight for the bathroom, where he turns the shower as hot as he can stand it and strips off before climbing in the tub. 

His chest and nipples sting when the spray hits them, and Noct looks down in confusion to see scratched and bitten skin, broken open and bruised in places. He lets out a whimper that quickly turns into a sob, and then he's crying hard, sinking down to huddle miserably on the floor of the tub as sorrow and grief grip his heart tightly. 

His head's a tumbling mess of emotions, shame and disgust and self-hatred swirling around and overwhelming him until he feels he'll choke on it all. He can't believe he let that happen to him. He should have realised sooner that something was wrong, that he'd been drugged... or maybe he shouldn't have been stupid enough to accept a drink from a stranger in the first place. 

As much as his heart hurts, he's too worn out to cry for long, so when his tears run dry he drags himself back up, the heavy weight of his sadness making his movements slow. He uses his hands to gently wipe away all the blood and other bodily fluids clinging in a sticky mess to the crevices of his body, squeezing his eyes shut in humiliation when he pokes a finger inside himself, trying to get out all the disgusting mess that's dried there. 

He stays until the water runs cold, and then reaches out to shut it off, standing for another long minute before finally getting out, grabbing a towel that's hanging nearby and wrapping it around himself. He moves into his room, digging through his dresser for the loosest fitting pyjamas he can find, pulling them on carefully. 

That done, he stumbles over to his bed and collapses into it, burying himself under the covers. He has school tomorrow—today, technically—but if he's not ready to talk about what happened when he wakes up, he'll tell Ignis he's sick, so he can stay home and sleep and hopefully block out the fact that this night ever happened. 

* * *

The first thing Noct's aware of when he wakes is that there's hands on him, shaking him. 

Eyes flying open, Noct jerks away hard, away from the hands touching him. His head bangs into the headboard, but he doesn't care, he's not going to let anything happen to him again, not a second time— 

"Your Highness?" It's Ignis' voice, sounding confused and concerned. 

Noct blinks, his face slowly heating up as he realises he's in his own bedroom in his apartment, not back in the bedroom at the party, and the hands had been Ignis trying to shake him awake. "Sorry," he mutters, feeling like an idiot. "Nightmare." 

Ignis reaches out to check his head, and Noct has to force himself not to flinch, staying carefully still as Ignis probes for bumps. Feeling Ignis' fingers gliding through his hair makes his skin crawl, and he's relieved when Ignis pulls away and declares him fine. 

"I could have told you that," he grumbles, sitting up and trying not wince at the way his body protests with pain. He glances at the clock beside his bed, eyes crinkling in confusion. "You're here early..." 

Ignis frowns, his mouth pinching tight in a look of upset disapproval. "Come to the kitchen once you're dressed. We have something to discuss." 

Noct stares after him as Ignis retreats, his stomach twisting anxiously. There's no way Ignis could have found out about the party already, and what happened, so what could he have to discuss? He thinks about the possibilities as he dresses, ignoring both the pain and the blood in his pyjamas, but all his mind can come up with is that maybe it's something to do with his dad... Gods, he hopes his dad is okay. 

When he walks into the open living room/kitchen area, Gladio's seated at the table. The sight makes Noct halt, because Gladio rarely ever has a reason to be at Noct's apartment on a school day, and in the morning no less. "Morning," Noct greets him cautiously, but Gladio merely grunts, making his anxiety increase. 

"What would you like for breakfast?" Ignis asks. 

Noct shakes his head at him. "Not hungry." 

He expects an argument and a lecture about how breakfast and proper nutrition are important, but instead Ignis simply nods, coming around the counter to take a seat next to Gladio. "Very well. Have a seat then." 

Noct does so warily, taking the one across from Ignis. There's a tablet on the table, and Noct gives it a confused glance. He has no idea what this is about—surely if it was something to do with his dad, they wouldn't look so _stern_. He swallows nervously, waiting for one of them to speak. 

Gladio picks up the tablet, swiping to unlock it before tapping a few times, and then he slides it across the table to Noct as a video starts playing. Noct watches in confusion for a moment, trying to figure out what's going on. Laughter and indistinct conversation can be heard, but the screen's blurry and unfocused, the lighting dim. Then there's a blip in the screen before it cuts to a new shot, and Noct feels acid rise in his throat at the sight. 

It's him. It's him as he was at the party last night, drugged out of his mind and naked on the bed while everyone touched him and abused him. The camera focuses on Marcus stroking him, staying as he grows hard, and then swings up to his face, where he's moaning and gasping out the word _please_ repeatedly. 

"Oh Gods," he says. He fumbles with the tablet, trying to turn the video off, but he's shaking and his fingers keep missing, so he finally just shoves it away from him, back towards Gladio. He feels sick to his stomach. He doesn't remember seeing any of them with a camera or phone in hand last night, doesn't remember being recorded, but there it is online for the whole world to see. All of Eos is going to see the Crown Prince of Lucis getting fucked six ways from Sunday. 

Gladio and Ignis both watch him impassively for a moment, neither of them touching the tablet to shut it off. On the video, a girl's voice speaks up, saying, _Here, occupy that pretty little mouth of yours_ , and Noct feels even sicker as the memory of it fills his mind, swallowing back bile. "Please," he says, and then winces at the unfortunate parallel. 

Taking pity on him, Gladio reaches out and pauses the video. It stops on a close-up of someone's dick going in him, making his whole face flush with shame. "It's already all over social media," Gladio says gruffly. 

"I—I didn't know they were recording..." Noct says weakly. His whole body's burning with humiliation. He feels weak and pathetic. He's sure they're both deeply disappointed in him, that he couldn't even be smart enough or strong enough to stop something so terrible from happening to him, that he didn't fight harder against the drugs to get away. 

His words seem to be a trigger for Gladio. He bangs his fist down hard on the table, looking upset. "What the hell, Noct? You're _fifteen_. What were you thinking?" 

"I'm sorry, I—" He wants to explain that he _tried_ , that he at least attempted to run, that he attempted several times to get his dagger from the Armiger, but the words get stuck in his throat, feeling like a poor excuse. He looks to Ignis, eyes pleading for help, but Ignis doesn't look any happier. 

"You should have known better than this, Noct," Ignis says, and Noct wants to cry. 

He huddles unhappily in his seat as they continue to lecture him, most of the words washing unheard over him as he stares at himself on the tablet, nausea and panic building in him as he thinks about everyone seeing him like that. Not just Ignis and Gladio, but Cor and all the Crownsguard, the Kingsglaive, all his classmates, his teachers, Prompto, his _dad_... 

And how long does the video go? Did they keep recording after he'd passed out? 

Astrals, he can't think about it anymore or he's going to throw up right here on the table in front of them. He forces himself to focus on their words, needing a distraction from his thoughts. "How could you do something like this?" Gladio is saying, and even in his distress, the phrasing gives Noct pause. Not, how could you let this happen, but how could you _do something_ like this, as if... as if they think Noct had _consented_ to that? 

He doesn't know if that's better or worse, to have them think he _wanted_ that, or to deal with the shame of them knowing he was stupid enough to let himself get raped. It at least puts their lecturing into a lot more perspective. They're not mad because he was too weak to stop it from happening, they're mad because they think he broke rules and let himself get fucked without any regards to the kingdom and preventing a public scandal. 

He listens miserably as they keep talking, venting their disappointment in tandem, feeding off of each other as their voices rise. 

"I realise hormones are overwhelming at this age, but you have a responsibility—" 

"You could have _at least_ used condoms—" 

"It isn't so much that you _had_ sex; rather, it's the manner in which you went about it—" 

"Look, kid, I know it sucks you can't date whoever you want, but it's for reasons like this—" 

"We make these rules precisely so we can protect you from scandals such as this—" 

He wants to tell them, wants to let them know they've got it all wrong, he wasn't being irresponsible and having group sex with strangers, he didn't want it to happen, he wasn't disregarding the potential of a scandal, at least not with something like _this_... 

When he opens his mouth to say so, however, he can't make the words come. It's horrible, but in a way he _does_ find it preferable for them to think he's some sort of insatiable slut. It hurts, though, that they can watch the video of him like that and not even _consider_ that he might not have wanted it. That they could see him lying there passively, not participating, and think he was somehow enjoying it. His chest aches, so tight it hurts to breathe, his eyes burning with the tears he doesn't dare cry. 

Eventually, they seem to run out of anger, their words dying down, Gladio slumping over the table while Ignis rubs at his forehead. They both look at him with tired and frustrated eyes, waiting for some sort of response, but he doesn't know what he should say to them. 

Well, he _should_ tell them the truth, still kind of wants to, but the thought of admitting what actually happened fills him with a sense of dread. They'll look at him with pity and maybe a bit of disgust, and then he _will_ have to explain why he was too pathetic to stop it, and then they'll have to tell his dad, who will either cry or be disgusted he has such a weak excuse for a son... 

No, as much as it hurts, it's better to let them think he wanted that. He sits there quietly, avoiding their eyes as he traces his finger randomly around the tabletop. When the silence gets to be too much, he finally speaks. "What's going to happen now?" 

Ignis sighs, looking weary. "We do what little damage control we can," he says. "You go to school and answer to no questions or comments about it." 

"There's going to be more restrictions on you for awhile," Gladio says. "His Majesty was very upset about this." 

"You also have an appointment after school to be tested," Ignis adds. 

Noct frowns, trying to figure out what a test has to do with any of this. "Tested?" 

"For any potential sexually transmitted infections," Ignis clarifies, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Given that you didn't appear to be using condoms at any point." 

Shit, he hasn't even considered that. Acid bubbles up again, burning his throat, and he swallows hard. He also doesn't miss the implication that they've watched the whole video, and though he understands it's so they can handle the coming media frenzy and better protect him, it still makes his chest ache that they could see so much and not pick up on anything wrong. 

He nods, avoiding their eyes. He doesn't want to deal with anymore of this right now. "I need to finish getting ready," he mutters as he stands, and then flees to the bathroom. 

* * *

School does not go well. The whispers start as soon as he steps into the building, and follow him all the way down the hall to his classroom. When he gives his usual greeting to Prompto, his best friend starts, and then gives an uncomfortable little laugh. "Oh, uh, hey Noct," he says, and then busies himself pulling out his books for their first lesson. 

_Fine_ , Noct thinks, blinking back tears as he turns away. He's still mad at Prompto anyway, for abandoning him at the party. 

The day passes slowly, and he's never felt like more of a social pariah. His teachers either ignore him or acknowledge him with an uneasy tone. Most of his classmates also ignore him, but whisper constantly behind his back. A few are bold enough to make lewd comments to him, when the teachers aren't looking. One guy asks how much he charges to have a night like that. 

Prompto, at least, doesn't _quite_ ignore him, but he's quiet and awkward, clearly uncertain how he's supposed to react to having seen his best friend getting absolutely wrecked. Noct ends up spending most of the day in a numb sort of daze, going through the motions while he relives the previous night's events in his mind and pretends the comments he overhears aren't making it worse. 

At last, though, the day is over, and he climbs into Ignis' car with a sigh of relief. Ignis glances at him, but says nothing. It stings, because normally Ignis asks how his day went. Noct bites down on his lip and looks out the window, more than ready to get home so he can cry away the day's frustrations. 

Soon, however, he realises they're heading in the direction opposite his apartment. "Where are we going?" he asks with a frown. 

"Your appointment." 

His... oh Astrals, his appointment. To see if he has anything. He'd completely forgotten about it. 

Panic and fear rise in him. What if he does have something, what if one of them gave him something incurable? His whole life would change, he'd have to always take medications, deal with flare-ups or outbreaks... If the idea of having sex ever stops making him feel sick, then he'll have to tell any potential partners he might have in the future... There'll be even _more_ of a scandal too, maybe even enough that people wouldn't trust him to be king one day... 

Noct hates this. He doesn't want to have something. This isn't fair. He never asked for this, never wanted any of it, why did they all have to do that to him— 

"Ignis," he says, and his voice is high and scared and tight, "what if one of them gave me something, what if—I can't—" 

"Perhaps you should have considered that before you forewent condoms," Ignis says, and _fuck_ that hurts. He's never seen Ignis be so cold. Noct squeezes his eyes shut, taking deep breaths as he tries not to cry. 

Of course, if he just tells Ignis what really happened, then Ignis would stop being mad... Noct could speak up now, admit the truth of it to Ignis. It's tempting. 

Ignis sighs then, seemingly taking pity on him. "Best not to dwell on it, Noct. Get tested first, and if you have something we can worry then." 

"Yeah," Noct forces out, and then he pauses. "Ignis—" 

"Yes?" 

_I didn't want it_ , he thinks. _They drugged me, Ignis. I was raped, I didn't_ want _it. Please don't hate me._

But the words don't come out. They stay there, stuck in his head, paralysed by his fear. "Nothing," he says. 

When they get there, Noct realises he has a whole new fear to worry about. He's never been tested for STIs before—what if the doctor wants to examine him? It won't take more than a brief look at all the damage on Noct's body to realise that he was raped. 

Although, maybe that would be a good thing. He keeps going back and forth, unable to make up his mind on whether he wants anyone to know—it'd be a relief, to not have to carry that alone, or have his friends angry with him, but it'd also be humiliating and shameful, and he doesn't want to face everyone's reactions. 

He fidgets nervously in the waiting room, the chair hurting his sore butt. Sitting through classes had been torture, and he'd had to excuse himself to the bathroom several times to change out the toilet paper he'd layered in his underwear to catch the blood that was trickling out. It wasn't a lot, but enough that he was worried about it ruining his clothes. 

"Why didn't we go to the Citadel's medical wing?" Noct mutters to Ignis when he stops shifting long enough to notice that other people in the waiting room keep glancing at him, looking away in embarrassment when they catch his eye. 

Ignis looks at him, pursing his lips. "I thought perhaps you would prefer if it wasn't someone you knew." 

"Oh." He falls silent, even more nervous, wondering what exactly is in store for him that would make Ignis consider that. 

When he's finally called back, he goes alone, Ignis staying in the waiting room. He's both relieved and scared by that. He doesn't want Ignis finding out or seeing anything, but losing the only support he has makes him feel afraid. 

When he's asked if he was sexually assaulted, Noct does his very best to sound like he's not lying when he says "No." He swallows down the terrifying urge to say yes instead. He's asked about his sexual history, but he has none other than last night, so he simply shrugs and doesn't answer. That gets him a concerned look, so he forces himself to roll his eyes like he doesn't care, and to answer the questions as vaguely as he can without being suspicious. He lies about some of it, and he knows he shouldn't, but he finds that he's too embarrassed to admit that last night is his only experience. 

He listens with half an ear as the doctor begins listing out how things are going to go, what he'll be tested for and what he can expect with results and how reliable they are. Noct's too distracted to really follow it, and much of it flies over his head. He's too anxious to focus on the conversation. He doesn't want to have anything, doesn't want to deal with it on top of everything else, just the possibility is leaving him nauseous and sweating, hands gripping his knees tightly as he waits for the doctor to get on with whatever comes next, and hopes that it isn't an examination. 

In the end, it turns out to be a blood sample and swabs, one of which he's given the option to do himself. It's humiliating, but less so than having the doctor do it and discover the trauma on his body. After that he's asked to pee in a cup, something that's a little difficult when he's had little to drink all day, but he manages. 

He nearly cries when he realises he won't be getting the results for a few days, some even longer— _weeks_ , and the thought of that is agonising. He doesn't know if he can stand the uncertainty of not knowing. In the meantime, he's given a prescription, and when he works out that it's to help prevent HIV, in the car on the way home after getting it filled, he _does_ cry, silent tears dripping down his cheeks and into his lap. Out of everything that's happened, knowing that he has to take a bunch of pills so he doesn't wind up with HIV is what makes it all feel truly _real_. 

Ignis says nothing the whole ride home, and the silence in the car is nearly suffocating. Once Noct's tears dry up, he thinks several times about speaking up, telling the truth, but can never quite bring himself to, both the silence and the shame holding him back. It's a relief when Ignis finally pulls the car into the garage for his building, though that relief is short-lived when he walks into his apartment and sees Gladio sitting at the table once more. 

He sits through the laying down of new rules and restrictions stoically, taking it all in and swallowing down the urge to whine about how unfair it all is. It won't get him anywhere, and it's his own fault—not only for letting himself get into the situation, but for not speaking up. 

As soon as Gladio and Ignis are done with their lecture—no going anywhere alone, no going anywhere not previously approved by one of them, whatever, Noct's really only half listening—he shrugs off Ignis' question of dinner and excuses himself to his room, shutting the door firmly behind him. 

He flops down on his bed, wincing when it makes the bruises and scratches on his chest sting. Burying his face into his pillow, he breathes in and then exhales slowly, wishing he could scream. Or sob until his throat hurt and his eyes burned. He doesn't really care. He's overwhelmed with everything that's happened in the last day—Gods, it hasn't even been twenty-four hours yet. It already feels like a lifetime. 

Rolling on his side, Noct pulls out his phone, bringing up the messaging app. Prompto's texts from last night are still there, taunting him. If only he'd never gone to that party. If only Prompto hadn't left him. If only he'd just gone home like he'd considered. If only he hadn't taken that drink. If only he'd realised the danger in time. So many _if onlys_ , and each one stabs him in the heart with how badly he wants any of them to have happened, instead of what actually did. 

A tear slips down his cheek, and Noct abandons his phone to roll back over into his pillow again, just in time to stifle the torrent of sobs that finally break free.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, made it in time for the last day of Hurt Noct Week! \o/ I wish I could have managed to do more days, but alas...
> 
> Uh, so this got _way_ longer than I thought it would... I thought about breaking it up and posting what I had once I started approaching 7K, but I would have needed to make the cut-off point before the truth reveal and eventual comfort, and I was afraid you all might die (or kill me, or both) if I did that. So have this loooong chapter, and enjoy. Well, maybe not _enjoy_ exactly, but... you know what I mean.
> 
> Oh, and if you read the first part the first day I posted it, due to... reasons, I've since edited the scene near the end where Noct's getting tested... All you really need to know is that I changed it so that he didn't get any results then, and he's started medication to prevent HIV.
> 
> Also, irrelevant, but I wrote this entire part while listening to Avicii's Nights on repeat for four days... It was kind of weird to be listening to something so catchy while writing something so painful, but if I listened to something sad this part probably never would have been written. Parts of this were really hard to write ;^;

The next couple of days pass in a surreal sort of daze. It's not dissimilar to how Noct felt that night at that party, lying on that bed and struggling to just _move_ while everyone used his body as they pleased. Thinking about it makes him want to cry, but after the first day, he hasn't been able to. He spends his days going through the motions, numb to everyone else around him, too overwhelmed by his own feelings to properly process them.

Most of his classmates still whisper and giggle uncomfortably at the sight of him. The Crownsguard has done what they can to get the video pulled from the internet, but the damage has already been done. Noct knows it still exists on dark corners of the web, and plenty of people's hard drives. And really, even if they _could_ permanently remove it, too many people have already seen it for it to matter much. Nearly all of Insomnia's seen their Crown Prince getting thoroughly fucked senseless. 

They haven't been able to trace the video back to whoever posted it. Noct suspects Marcus, not that he's told anyone. Cor drops by his apartment and speaks to him, wanting names and better descriptions than the video's lighting had provided, but Noct can't bring himself to give the only name and description he has. He can't even understand why it matters, since everyone seems to think he _wanted_ that. 

When he says as much, at least the first part, Cor gives him an odd look. "Your Highness, you are a minor still, and the Crown Prince besides. It is illegal to record and distribute videos of such a nature." 

"But... they were all underage too." 

"Yes, which is why they will only be prosecuted for the sharing of the video." 

To that, Noct simply shrugs sullenly. When he thinks about Marcus and the others being caught, maybe going to jail, he feels nothing. They've already hurt him, already ruined him and broken him. Their imprisonment isn't going to change that, or undo it. It won't fix anything. 

When Cor leaves, Ignis calls him to the table for dinner. Noct has no appetite, and wants to go stand in the shower with his eyes closed and let the warm water soothe his body. His injuries are healing slowly, or at least that's how it feels, and it makes him sick when he sees them on himself. Sitting and lying down for so much of his day is painful, especially when he can't let on that he's in pain. 

At least his bleeding has stopped. That had been both embarrassing and scary, and Noct had been dreading the thought of explaining that particular problem to Ignis if it hadn't let up. Even if he's still torn on whether to explain the truth of that night to his friends, he _never_ wants to explain injuries of such a personal, embarrassing nature. 

"I will not allow you to skip dinner, Your Highness," Ignis says, cutting into his thoughts, and Noct sighs and gets up from the couch. Ignis has been distant with him these past couple days, calling him 'Your Highness' more than 'Noct' and speaking in a more reserved tone than usual. It hurts, a lot. Ignis has always been his primary support system, and to not have him now when Noct needs him most leaves him floundering, sinking fast in a river of emotion that's deeper than he'd expected, and he can't keep his head up. 

He eats dinner slowly, picking at his food. Along with his lack of appetite, the meds he's started on have left him feeling mildly nauseated. Between the two, food has become entirely unappealing. 

"You need to eat more." 

"I can't. These stupid pills make me want to throw up." 

"Perhaps you should have given more thought to the consequences of unprotected sex with strangers then," Ignis says sharply, frustration bleeding through his words. "Those stupid pills, as you put it, will help prevent you potentially developing an eventual life-threatening illness. You should be grateful to have them." 

Noct looks down at his plate, tears rimming his eyes. He can feel sobs threatening, but bites down on his lip to hold them back. More and more, he's wondering if it's worth it to keep his silence. He hates having Ignis upset and snapping at him, hates that Prompto's barely talking to him and Gladio's _still_ constantly trying to lecture him. He hates the stupid meds, and hates even more that he needs them, and he especially hates that he doesn't even know if he really has anything. The clinic had called with some of his results earlier, and they'd come back clean, but that's not everything, _and_ they still want him to go back for more testing later to be sure, something he hadn't realised the other day. It's frustrating and stressful and scary, and Noct hates it. 

More than that, Noct hates that this whole thing even happened. He hates Marcus, hates that he was drugged and raped and recorded, hates that everyone thinks he wanted it and that he can't bring himself to tell them otherwise... Most of all, though, Noct hates himself for being stupid enough to let it happen. 

"Please eat, Noct," Ignis says, and he just sounds weary now. It makes Noct want to cry even more. 

"I _can't_ ," he says, ashamed to hear the wobble in his voice, and his stomach clenches in guilt when he hears Ignis' defeated sigh. It's enough of a dismissal for him, so he shoves his chair back and flees to his room. 

He doesn't cry when he gets there. He _wants_ to, the tears are there, but now they seem stuck, refusing to fall. He takes a moment to stand just past the door, closing his eyes and placing a hand to his forehead as he takes deep breaths, exhaling slowly, shakily, and then he goes and huddles up in the middle of his bed, knees drawn up tight to his chest and arms wrapped around them. It hurts, aggravating the bruises and marks on his chest, but he almost welcomes the pain—it's a distraction from the heavy ache in his heart. 

He doesn't know what to do anymore, what the right thing is. He doesn't want the warring looks of pity and disgust everyone will give him if they know the truth, or the disappointment they'll all feel when they learn he's a failure, that everything they've tried to teach him about defending himself turned out to be useless. 

But he's sad and hurting and he feels so _alone_ , and he can't stand it. Carrying this secret is slowly eating away at him and he doesn't know if he can do it much longer. He just wants _one person_ to look at him without thinking he's some kind of promiscuous nympho that'll give it up to anybody. He wants for someone to hold him and tell him it'll be okay and soothe him when he wakes up panicking from the nightmares. He wants someone to help him not feel so broken, to reassure him that he won't forever be destroyed by this. 

It's just too much. His head's pounding, there's a painful tension in his chest, his whole body feels stiff, the muscles too tight, and his eyes burn with his stubborn unshed tears. His grief is overpowering, consuming him, and he wants desperately to cry, but it seems even his own body isn't something he's allowed to control anymore, like everything else in his life. 

Suddenly angry, Noct slams a fist down into his mattress. He's expecting it to be satisfying, but it's not at all. So instead he reaches behind him for his pillow, and hurls it as hard as he can across the room. It slams into his laptop, knocking it off the desk onto the floor with a loud clatter. Noct wraps his arm back around his knee as he looks at the computer, almost hoping it's broken. 

Footsteps sound outside his door, and then Ignis' voice calls in concern, "Noct?" When he gets no answer he opens the door, carefully poking his head in. He spots the pillow and laptop instantly, frowning in disapproval. "A temper tantrum, Your Highness?" he asks, walking over and picking up the laptop. It doesn't appear to be broken, and Noct's not sure if he's relieved or disappointed by that. "You're not a small child, please don't act like one." 

"Shut up," Noct says, but there's no heat behind the words. He watches dully as Ignis brings his pillow back over, fluffing it up some before placing it on the bed. Even when Ignis is upset with him, it seems he can't resist taking care of Noct. Normally it leaves him feeling pleased and cared for, but right now it's all wrong. He doesn't want it from Ignis when they're like this. 

Ignis picks up a few empty drink bottles from the floor beside his bed, carting them over to the trashcan next to his desk. 

"Ignis," Noct says suddenly. 

"Yes?" 

"I—" _I didn't want it. They drugged me. I couldn't move. I was_ raped _. Why can't I just_ tell _you?_ He curls his fingers, digging the nails into his legs in frustration. "I'm tired," he says, swallowing around the lump. "Can you leave?" 

Ignis doesn't respond, but he does leave, shutting the door behind him. Out of spite, Noct picks up his pillow and throws it again, this time at his now closed door. It doesn't make him feel better, but then, Noct's not sure anything can anymore. 

* * *

The next day is a Saturday. A typical Saturday involves Noct doing whatever royal obligations he might have in the morning, and then spending the rest of the day free with Prompto, going to the arcade or wandering around the city while Prompto takes pictures of whatever catches his eye, maybe grabbing a late lunch at their favourite greasy diner before heading back to Noct's apartment and goofing around until Prompto has to leave. 

This Saturday isn't typical, and involves none of that. Noct wants to stay in bed and sleep and ignore every terrible thing he's feeling, but of course he's not allowed to do that. It's not enough to have been lectured endlessly and have Ignis and Gladio follow him around everywhere policing his every move and not allowing him to go anywhere—not that he _wants_ to go anywhere at the moment, but it's the principle of the thing. No, now they have to punish him even more by dragging him out of bed at six in the morning and make him go to training. 

Noct eyes Gladio warily, even as he assumes his typical stance. This seems like a bad idea. He's not _completely_ averse to people touching him now, but if it's reminiscent enough of his rape in certain ways, he feels like he's back there in that room, reliving everything that happened. "Can't this wait?" he grumbles, using annoyance to cover how apprehensive he really feels. "I feel sick." 

"That's kind of your own doing, Princess." 

Noct flinches. It hurts mostly because Gladio's right, even if he means it in a different way than Noct does. And Noct's ashamed enough of letting it happen without his friends' stinging reminders. "Yeah?" he says, shoving the hurt away. "Well if I throw up on you, it'll be _your_ doing." 

Gladio laughs. "You'll be fine." 

Fifteen minutes later, Noct is most definitely _not_ fine. Not only does he feel even more sick from all the motion, he's tired and on edge, unable to focus on their sparring properly—he's too afraid of Gladio getting too close to him, and he keeps watching the man himself instead of his weapon, leaving him wide open to get hit. 

"Focus, Noct," Gladio says, frowning as he circles around to Noct's side, moving in closer. 

"I'm trying!" Noct snaps as he whirls, eyeing Gladio warily. He brings his sword up to block Gladio's swing, but there's more force behind it than he'd expected, and he loses his grip, the sword falling somewhere to the floor beneath him. Noct doesn't even think about retrieving it, because Gladio's moving in closer to him, too close, so Noct moves to keep him in full view, and backs up— 

"Watch out!" Gladio barks out, and faster than Noct can process, Gladio's grabbing him, moving him out of the way before he trips over his own sword. 

Noct freezes, everything else fading to the background as he becomes hyper-aware of Gladio's body against his, of his stomach pressing into Gladio, one of Gladio's arms wrapped around his waist as his hand rests against Noct's back. His hip is against Gladio's leg and the palm of Gladio's other hand is flat on Noct's other hip, and it's too much, he feels sick with terror, memories are crowding in—a crushing weight on his stomach, knees digging into his sides, hands gripping his hips tightly, there's pain everywhere and he can't breathe— 

Gladio lets him go, presumably assured of his safety, and Noct turns, feeling the bile swiftly rising, but he only makes it two steps before he's throwing up, dropping to his hands and knees as he heaves his meagre breakfast onto the floor. 

"Shit, Noct," Gladio says, dropping down next to him, reaching out for him, and even in this state Noct's aware enough of it to flinch back violently, choking out a hoarse and garbled "don't touch me." Gladio lets his arm fall, climbing to his feet and heading out of the room. It makes Noct feel abandoned, but he can't do much more at the moment than hope that Gladio comes back. 

It doesn't take him long to empty his stomach, and he sits through the dry-heaves miserably until they at last subside around the time Gladio steps back in. He's got a damp cloth in his hands, and Noct allows him to place it against the back of his neck, enjoying the cool feel of it on his flushed skin as he rocks back on his haunches. 

"Better?" Gladio asks, and Noct gives a small shrug, letting his butt drop to the floor before stretching his legs out in front of him some, careful to avoid the vomit. It's not an ideal place to sit—the floor is hard, unforgiving marble, and the acrid smell of his stomach contents surrounds them both, but there's no way he's moving yet. He feels terrible, hot and sweating and trembling, his stomach aching and his body weak. 

"Sorry," Noct says, gesturing vaguely to his mess. 

"Nah, don't worry about it," Gladio says. "I should have listened to you more." 

"Is this the part where I say I told you so?" Noct asks, but he doesn't really feel any humour in the situation. His throat's raw, each word painful, and the memories that triggered his panic are still lurking around the edges of his mind, looking for their chance to move out of the shadows and make him see them in full detail again. 

Gladio lets out a brief chuckle. "Yeah, guess so." He takes the cloth and flips it over, so that it's cool once more. "This can't be any worse than the hangover you must have had the other night, though." 

"Hangover?" Noct asks blankly. He has no idea what Gladio's referring to. 

"Wherever you were at with all those kids. You weren't exactly the picture of sobriety." 

Noct blinks. Is that what they all think? That he was just drunk? It makes a sickening amount of sense. Noct's seen enough drunk people to know his own behaviour wasn't too far off from it, even if he wasn't _actually_ drunk. "I guess," he says. 

"Bet you enjoyed it though, huh?" Gladio glances at him, an amused grin on his face. "Don't get me wrong, it was absolutely a stupid thing to do, but I gotta say, I'm impressed. Thought you'd be too shy to approach even one person for a couple more years. Hope you had fun." 

"Yeah," he says, hollow and numb. Gladio's impressed with him. Gladio's fucking _impressed_ with the fact that he was sociable enough to let a bunch of teenagers he didn't know use him and abuse him. If Gladio knew the truth, would he still be impressed? Would he congratulate Noct for being stupid enough to try and flirt with someone who'd given him a drugged drink? 

Noct doesn't even know _why_ they'd done it, why _him_. No one would have known in advance that he was going to be at the party, so it had to have been a heat of the moment decision, but had they picked him specifically, or was he just an easy target in the wrong place at the wrong time? He dimly recalls someone whispering hatred in his ear at one point, but he can't remember who, and he doesn't know if they all shared that sentiment, or if that was any part of their reasoning. 

"Come on, let's get you home," Gladio says then, taking the cloth off his neck, and Noct immediately gets to his feet, before Gladio can try to help him. "I'm sure Iggy's lurking around this place somewhere." 

"What about..." 

"I'll get someone to clean it." 

Noct nods, and follows after him. 

* * *

Due to Saturday's fiasco, Noct's left alone for Sunday. Ignis is there, but he does his own thing, puttering around the apartment, cleaning and cooking, and absolutely _not leaving_ because Noct can't be trusted to be alone right now. Apparently his dad and Cor are worried Noct's going to keep sneaking out to go have more group orgies or do other stupid things that will cause a scandal. As if one wasn't enough somehow. 

The restrictions and constant supervision still bother him, but he has only himself to blame for them, and he figures they have to stop soon enough. Ignis and Gladio have their own lives too, and they won't want to babysit him forever. Even though it's his dad orders, Gladio will start bitching, and Ignis will get busy with other things, and they'll both start slacking, and then Noct can go to his dad and mention all the stress the two of them seem to be under, and by the way, he's really, really sorry for everything and it won't ever happen again... 

Assuming, of course, he can bring himself to ever face his dad again. His dad's been too busy to see him yet—and that's a deep ache in itself that Noct doesn't want to think about it—but eventually he'll ask to, and Noct's not sure he can manage it. He's sure his dad has seen the video, there's no way he wouldn't have, and knowing his dad has seen him like that is more humiliating than the combined whole rest of Eos having seen it. 

Noct sighs, rolling on his side and curling up in a ball. He's been in bed all day, not seeing any reason to leave it. Thoughts and memories have been chasing themselves around his brain for hours, leaving him grieving and exhausted. He still hasn't been able to cry, and his sorrow rests heavy on his heart, weighing him down. 

His phone suddenly lets out a chime, alerting him to a text. After a long, apathetic moment, Noct reaches behind him, feeling around for it. He blinks when he sees it's from Prompto. His best friend hasn't texted him at all since the video was posted. Their brief, awkward conversations at school have been the extent of their communication. 

_Hey idk if u saw yet so u can ignore if u did but theres an article on u in insomnian star about.. u kno... theres a pic of u_

Dread a tight lump in his stomach and throat, Noct clicks the link that Prompto's included, and almost immediately his screen is filled with a picture of his own face, eyes clenched shut and mouth open, head thrown back slightly as unwanted pleasure is wrung from him. With trembling fingers, Noct scrolls down, skimming through the article, feeling sicker with every word he reads. Most of it is nonsense trash, but midway through he finds a couple of paragraphs worth of speculation on whether the video is his first sexual experience, or if there's 'more kinky encounters' in his past that he's managed to keep hidden from the public. 

Nausea building, Noct drops his phone, swallowing hard. It's been the one thing he hasn't dared let himself think about at all yet, but now thanks to this article, the whole world's going to be contemplating the loss of his virginity. 

Fuck, he doesn't even if know if it's a big deal to him. He feels like it shouldn't be—it's just sex, right? And he's known there's always been a chance he'll wind up marrying for politics rather than love, so that means there's never been a point in saving himself for someone he loves. But... he's always expected to have at least _some_ say in it, that if he wasn't able to control the who, he could at least control the how and when. Now even that's been taken from him. 

Taking a deep breath, he grabs his phone again and sends back a single word: _thanks_. Then he sends the link to Ignis' phone. 

It only takes a few minutes for Ignis to come to his room, standing in the doorway as Noct turns his head, attempting to glance back at him before facing the wall again, staring unseeing at it. "I've alerted Cor," Ignis says. "They'll get the article pulled down and any physical copies of the tabloid recalled as fast as they can." 

"Great," Noct says, voice dull and apathetic. He expects Ignis to leave, but instead he remains, his piercing gaze stabbing into Noct's back, and it makes Noct uncomfortable. "What," he says, the word flat. 

"I know this is upsetting," Ignis begins, and Noct groans, realising Ignis is going to make more pointed remarks to drive home how stupid Noct's behaviour had been. As if he's not already well aware of that fact. "Don't groan. You need to understand that those restrictions on dating existed for a reason. I realise it's frustrating and unfair, but—" 

"Ignis," Noct says forcefully, interrupting. "Can you just... can you not? Please." He can't listen to it again, not when every part of him wants so desperately to cry and sob and scream out everything he's feeling, how hurt and scared and _angry_ he is, not just at Marcus and the others who raped him, but at _Ignis_ , and _Gladio_ , and even Prompto, because not one of them has picked up on how truly broken he is. He's angry that they could all watch that video and think he was drunk and enjoying it, or that none of them even thought to double-check and make sure he had consented before they jumped all over him with their assumptions and disapproval. 

"You don't seem to grasp how serious this all is, Your Highness, if your attitude the past few days is anything to go by." 

Noct can't resist letting out a bitter laugh at that absurd statement. "Just. Just leave me alone. Go away. That's an order." 

"Very well." Ignis' voice is tight with anger now, but Noct can't bring himself to care. He waits for the sound of his door shutting and footsteps retreating and then he raises a fist and slams it down hard on the side of his leg, just below his hip. He does it again, and then again, all of his pent up emotions slowly draining out of him with each successive blow, until his leg's bruised and sore and he's too worn out to lift his arm again. 

Feeling weary, Noct sleeps. 

* * *

At school on Monday, the whispers seem even worse than they had last week, hurtful words and glances following after him down the halls as he heads to his classroom in the morning. He's not sure if it's just because he's had two days free of them, or if they really have gotten worse, perhaps because of the article, but either way, he's glad summer break is coming in a couple of weeks. Then he'll have a whole month before he'll have to deal with this again. 

"Morning, Noct," Prompto greets him as he takes his seat. Noct looks at him, startled, and then tries for a small smile. It feels wrong and out of place, but Prompto doesn't seem to notice. 

"Morning," he returns, glad that Prompto sounds less awkward today. Whatever his best friend thinks about the video, he seems to have decided he's not going to let it get in the way of their friendship. And though Noct's still mad at him, he doesn't want to lose his friend, so he's willing to try and put it aside and talk to Prompto. 

They pass a note back and forth during lessons, little snatches of pointless conversation about how boring the lesson is, the pictures Prompto's taken lately, the release of a new game they're both looking forward to. Noct doesn't care about these things in quite the same way he would have before, but it's a nice distraction from his thoughts, and makes him feel more normal and light-hearted than he has in days. 

"You wanna eat on the roof?" Prompto asks at lunch, and Noct agrees. They leave the classroom and head up there, finding a quiet corner to sit in. Despite constantly talking about him, most of his classmates are too intimidated to approach Noct directly, so they're left alone. 

Noct's still struggling with his appetite, but he does his best to eat what he can, knowing he can't keep not eating. They carry on their conversations from the note as they eat, and it's still a little awkward at times, but thankfully nothing like last week. 

"You wanna wander around with me after school today? Weather's nice, I could get some good pictures," Prompto says, glancing at him hopefully. 

Noct sighs, his lighter mood dissipating with the reminder of his situation. "I don't know if Ignis and Gladio would let me right now." He sets his food down, knowing he won't be able to finish it. His appetite's shot now. "And even if they did, one or both of them would follow us around, to make sure I'm not sneaking off somewhere I'm not supposed to be," he says bitterly. 

"Oh," Prompto says quietly. "Maybe some other time then." 

"Yeah." 

They fall silent, and Noct's worried by how troubled Prompto looks now. He hopes Prompto's not having second thoughts, that he's not going to lose his best friend after all. He's startled when Prompto speaks again, the words hesitant and unsure. "Noct... the party. You—you wanted that, right?" 

Noct's mouth goes dry as he looks at Prompto, his breath catching for a second as he struggles to find words. "What do you mean?" he finally asks, and wonders if his best friend can hear how loud his heart is pounding. Just yesterday, he'd been so mad that none of his friends had seemed to question his consent. Mad enough that his leg is still sore from the abuse he'd heaped on it. But now that someone _is_ questioning it, he finds that he's terrified. This should be his chance, he can tell the truth at last, admit what he'd really let happen... but he can't bring himself to. Like always, he's too much of a fucking coward. 

"Well I... I didn't watch a lot of the video," Prompto stammers, his cheeks flushed dark red with embarrassment. "But you seemed really drunk? And I worried maybe you weren't completely aware... but I guess that's pretty dumb, huh? Because you would have said if you didn't want it, of course you would have, just ignore me, I'm an idiot, you know me! Open foot, insert mouth! No wait, that's not how it goes—" 

"Prompto," Noct says, and waits for his anxious babbling to die down, and for Prompto to look at him. "I wanted it," he says, and the lie tastes like ash in his mouth. Prompto thinks he would have said if he didn't want it. He thinks Noct's stronger than he really is. It makes him feel like shit. 

"Oh, uh, okay then," Prompto says, lowering his eyes and glancing away. He scratches at the side of his neck, clearly feeling awkward. "That's good, I guess..." 

"Yeah. Good," Noct echoes, voice hollow, and they spend the rest of their lunch in silence. 

* * *

The rest of the week passes slowly. Ignis and Gladio are always there, escorting him anywhere he needs to go, staying at his apartment most of the time, checking on him constantly when they're not, and Noct feels like he never has a moment of privacy anymore. They still can't resist making little jabs at him here and there either, though Ignis is way worse about it than Gladio, still distant and upset with him. It feeds into Noct's anger with them, making him snappish and sullen, and he feels like he's going crazy. 

Prompto is the only bright spot in his days, their friendship slowly approaching some semblance of normal again. On Friday when Ignis arrives to pick Noct up, Prompto climbs in the car with him. "Prompto's coming over," Noct says as they get in, his tone making it clear he's not asking for permission. 

"That's fine," Ignis says politely, though Noct can tell by the twitch in his jaw that he's not happy with it. "Hello, Prompto." 

"Uh, hi, Ignis," Prompto says, blushing some. They've only met a handful of times, and Noct knows Prompto is still somewhat intimidated by him, even if he won't admit it. When they get to his apartment, Gladio's there, rummaging through his fridge for a drink, and Noct sighs in aggravation. He just wants to relax and play games with Prompto and forget about every shitty thing that's happened lately, but that's never going to happen as long as Ignis and Gladio are both here, lurking around and making Prompto nervous and ruining any chance at a good mood Noct might have. 

He goes over to the couch anyway, plopping down on it and starting up a game as Prompto follows him, glancing nervously at his kitchen. "Uh, why is the big guy here?" he asks in a low voice. 

Noct rolls his eyes. "He wants free food." 

"Free food?" 

"Whatever Ignis is cooking for dinner. Usually it's just Ignis that stays, but Gladio won't pass up his cooking if he's free." 

"Oh." Prompto starts bouncing a leg, hands clasped on his knee, clearly picking up on the tension in the apartment. "Uh, you wanna go to my place instead? I know I don't have cool games like you do, but it'd be better than here, right?" 

Noct looks at him in surprise. "You'd let me?" He's never been to Prompto's house before. He's asked, once, but Prompto had seemed uncomfortable with the idea, so Noct had let it drop and never brought it up again. 

"Yeah... I mean, it's not as nice as your place, and it's a little messy, but my parents are gone, so it'd be just us. If that's okay," Prompto says, biting briefly at his lip as he looks at Noct. 

It sounds really, really good. Noct desperately wants to get away from his apartment, away from Ignis and Gladio and all the stress, away from all the memories that constantly choke him with grief and anger and hatred for himself. But Ignis and Gladio still want to keep him cooped up, and Noct's not sure they'll let him go. Maybe if they or other Crownsguard sit outside and watch the house...? It won't be ideal for them, but Noct _really_ needs the time away from them. "Hang on," he says to Prompto, and then gets up and goes over to the kitchen. 

"Uh, so I know you guys are supposed to stay with me, but can I go to Prompto's alone for a couple of hours?" Noct asks. "We won't go anywhere, I promise." 

"No," Ignis says. "Not without one of us." 

"Please? You could watch the house from the car, or have a couple Crownsguard do it. I _swear_ , we'll stay at the house the whole time." 

"Absolutely not," Ignis says flatly, not even looking up from the counter he's wiping down. 

It makes Noct mad. Ignis won't even _consider_ it. Noct's trying to compromise, trying to stick to the rules while still having time to himself, but Ignis doesn't care at all because he's so set on punishing Noct. "You can't keep me chained up in this apartment forever! Just let me go over there for a couple of hours, _please_." He hates begging with that word now, it's too much like that night, but if it will get Ignis to let him go... 

"I said no, Your Highness," Ignis snaps. 

Noct looks to Gladio, his eyes pleading for him to appeal to Ignis and get him to relent. But Gladio shrugs uncomfortably, looking away for a moment. "Sorry, but I gotta agree with Iggy," he says. 

Noct slams his fist down on the counter, hard, anger surging through him. "This isn't fair!" he shouts. He feels wild and out of control suddenly, but he's _so sick_ of all this. Behind him, he hears Prompto get up from the couch and start heading in their direction. 

"You should have considered that before getting drunk and making rash decisions, then. Perhaps you'll remember this the next time you consider doing something so irresponsible," Ignis says coldly, and at that Noct loses it. 

" _Shut up_! I wasn't drunk, I was _drugged_ , why didn't any of you fucking see that?!" He's screaming the words as he looks at the two of them, and he's terrified and so, so angry, but he just can't _do this_ anymore. He can't keep the truth to himself, it's killing him, and he's tired of all these stupid restrictions and rules and being treated like he deliberately went out and did something irresponsible and stupid. 

Ignis jerks his head up, and it's clear he's caught off-guard, his green eyes wide and shocked behind his glasses, his cold demeanour gone in an instant. "What?" he asks faintly. Behind them, Noct hears Prompto moan out a quiet "oh no." 

"Explain that," Gladio demands tersely, folding his arms across his chest as he looks at Noct hard, but Noct can see the anxiety in his gaze. 

"Explain it? I was drugged, you assholes. I was _drugged_ and I couldn't _move_ and _all of you_ watched that video and not _one of you_ noticed!" His voice catches on the last word, breaking in half on a long-awaited sob that he swallows down, not wanting to cry in _this_ moment, but that does nothing to stop the tears that are welling up in his eyes. 

"Noct—" Ignis says, and there's horror in his voice that makes Noct squeeze his eyes shut, his heart beating fast. "Noct, are you saying you didn't—that it wasn't consensual?" 

Some of the tears spill out, sliding wetly down his cheeks. Noct sniffles once, dragging an arm across his eyes before opening them and looking at his friends. "I didn't want it," he confirms quietly, and takes a deep breath, for the first time saying the truth out loud. "They all raped me." 

For a moment, there's only silence in the room, everyone still as they try to process his words, their expressions unsettled and upset. Then Gladio swears, banging his own fist down on the counter. "Dammit! I—why didn't you tell us, kid?" His tone is sad rather than angry, and somehow that makes Noct even angrier. 

"Why didn't you ask?" Noct counters, bitterness seeping through his tone. "You all just assumed I wanted it right from the start." 

"Noct, I'm terribly sorry—" 

"Save it," Noct says, cutting Ignis off. He doesn't want to deal with their guilt right now. He's too hurt and angry still, and he can't handle it. He goes to his room, leaving all of them out there, and shuts the door behind him, locking them all out. A deep breath, and he throws himself on his bed, burying his face into his pillow, and then he screams as loud as he can, not caring if the others can hear him. He screams and screams, roaring into his pillow until his voice is hoarse, his throat aching, and then he rolls onto his side and cries, breaths bursting out of him in gulping, painful sobs, tears soaking his face endlessly until at last he falls asleep, too exhausted to stay awake any longer. 

* * *

"We've been so stupid, Iggy!" 

Noct blinks tiredly, dragging himself up from a nightmare back into the waking world, Gladio's loud, rumbling voice drifting into his room. He sits up, running an exhausted hand through sweaty hair, and listens to the conversation taking place in his kitchen. In their upset, neither of his friends are making an effort to be quiet, and every word comes back to him clearly. 

"Yes, we've made quite a mess of things." Ignis' tone is full of self-loathing, and Noct sighs to hear it. 

"Astrals, I told him I was impressed. That I hoped he had _fun_. And they were raping him!" Gladio sounds just as self-loathing. "Iggy, there were so many of them." 

"Yes." A pause. "Noct must have been hurting so terribly this past week and a half. We both said so many awful things to him. Myself especially." 

"I told you not to keep harping on him so much," Gladio says accusingly, and Noct can easily picture the fierce glare Ignis gives him at that. 

"You think I don't regret it?" 

Gladio sighs. "We both feel guilty." There's another pause, and Noct wishes he could see what they're doing. "Kid's so angry with us." 

"Can you blame him? We both watched that video to the end, and neither of us picked up on what was truly happening." 

"I know." Gladio's voice is quieter now, but Noct can still hear him well enough. "We both would have expected him to be fighting if something was happening he didn't want." 

"Don't you even _think_ of suggesting something like that to him," Ignis hisses loudly, and Noct's startled by how angry Ignis seems suddenly. It confuses him, because... _shouldn't_ they want for him to have fought? He was drugged, yeah, and he did fight a little, but he could have tried harder. 

"I know, I know. He said he couldn't move, I'm not blaming him. Ain't his fault those kids raped him." There's silence for a moment, and then a loud bang, which Noct assumes is Gladio slamming his hand into the counter again. "We should have seen it, dammit!" 

"It didn't... he looked... he kept repeating please." Ignis seems to be at a loss on how to phrase what he's trying to say, and it unnerves Noct, because Ignis has always taken pride in being articulate, even as a child. And it's still confusing, because while he'd expected some of this reaction from them, he's yet to hear the other reactions he was sure they'd have. The disgust, and new waves of disappointment, wanting to know how he could let it even happen... 

"Yeah. Please stop raping me, not please fuck me harder." The words are vicious, and make Noct wince. 

"This is pointless," Ignis sighs. "We can be disgusted with ourselves and regret our behaviour all we wish, but it won't help Noct. We need to make things right, not sit here and berate ourselves." 

Gladio groans. "You're right. Think he's still up? Haven't heard him crying in the past hour..." 

Ignis lets out a sigh, and Noct hears footsteps approaching his door, before a soft knock sounds on it. "Noct? Are you awake?" Ignis asks quietly. 

Noct considers simply not answering, but he wants Ignis to hurt as much as he is. He _wants_ them to feel guilty and terrible and hate themselves, to drown in regret and self-blame, the same way that he does. "Go away." 

"I'm afraid I can't do that. Noct, Gladio and I are both so very sorry. We would like to talk to you. Would you please come out?" 

Growling in annoyance, knowing that Ignis isn't going to leave him alone, Noct slides off the bed and stalks across the room to his door, yanking it open, startling Ignis. "Fine," Noct says, shoving past him. "It's not like what _I_ want matters anymore anyway." He glances back just in time to see Ignis wince, a stricken look coming over his face, and feels savagely glad. 

He goes to the living room, intending to sit on the couch, away from where Gladio's sitting at the table, but instead he's surprised to find Prompto fast asleep there. Noct assumed one of them would have taken his best friend home a while ago. Prompto's eyes are red and swollen-looking, and Noct can see dried tear-streaks down his cheeks. It makes him feel bad, because even though he's still angry with Prompto for ditching him at the party, and for not talking to him much those first days and not catching on to what had happened right away, at least he _had_ eventually asked, unlike Ignis and Gladio. 

Careful to not let the movement wake Prompto, Noct takes a seat on the other section of the couch. It's closer to the kitchen table, but at least he's not facing directly across from it now. "Why didn't he leave?" he asks, nodding towards Prompto. 

Ignis takes a seat at the table, next to Gladio. It reminds Noct of the first day after the party, and he shifts uncomfortably. "He was... quite distressed, to hear you screaming earlier. He fell asleep after we calmed him down. It seemed kinder to let him sleep." 

Noct sighs, not responding, and looks out the windows. They're floor-to-ceiling, and afford him a nice view of the city outside. Right now he hates it. So many people out there, going about their daily lives, happy and carefree, and Noct wishes desperately he could be like them. 

"Noct, we're sorry," Gladio says, his voice rough. 

"Good for you." 

"What can we do to make this right?" Ignis asks. Noct laughs bitterly at that, but doesn't answer. There isn't one to give. 

"Kid, you gotta know if we'd known, we never would have said all those things, or placed all those restrictions—" 

"You didn't even ask!" Noct snaps, anger flaring again. "Even if you thought I was drunk, it didn't occur to you to think, hey, maybe he's too drunk to consent, we should check and see if he wanted this! Instead you come in and shove that video at me, make me watch it and don't even turn it off until I ask, then have the nerve to lecture me without even asking for my side!" 

"You're right," Ignis says, and Noct can't stand the amount of guilt dripping from his voice. "We made a horrible mistake and went about things all wrong. We feel terrible—" 

"Shut up and stop trying to unload your guilt onto me!" Noct yells. He doesn't know where the words are coming from, he's usually not any good at expressing his feelings, but they've been stuck inside him too long already, building and building until he can't contain them any longer. "You want me to forgive you and make you feel better, but I'm not going to do that! This isn't about you!" 

"Noct—" 

"Noct?" Prompto mumbles around a yawn, sitting up and blinking in confusion as he looks around at everyone. "What's going on?" 

Noct gestures at him, swinging an arm wildly, looking over at Ignis and Gladio. "You know, Prompto was the only one who thought to ask if I wanted it! Even if it was five days too late," he adds with a snarl, directing a glare at his best friend. 

"You're mad at me?" Prompto asks, eyes wide and hurt as he stares in disbelief at Noct, a flush creeping over his cheeks, darkening the freckles there. 

"You ditched me! You begged me to go to that party with you and then you left me alone to go chat up some girl, and if you hadn't done that then I might not have—" His anger's fading as fast as it came on, overwhelming grief rising up to take its place. "You _left_ me, and they raped me," he says, and then he's crying again, hunching over and burying his face in his hands, ashamed to be breaking down in front of them. 

"I didn't—I didn't mean—" Prompto stammers, sounding horrified. 

Noct's vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps approaching, but doesn't really register them until a hand comes to rest on his head, tangling gently in his hair. He moves on instinct, flinging himself forward away from the touch, off the couch and into the coffee table, the front of his skull cracking into it. "Fuck," he says through his tears as his head begins to throb with pain. 

Gladio gets up from the table in alarm, making his way over, but Ignis gets there first, coming around the couch and crouching down near him. "Let me see," he says, reaching out a hand, but Noct jerks away again, bumping into the back of the couch this time. 

"Don't touch me," he says. 

"You're injured." 

That simple statement rips a loud sob out of him. "I've _been_ injured," he says, and yanks the collar of his shirt down to reveal the fading greenish-yellow bruises still littering his chest. 

From the couch, Prompto lets out a gasp, and a look of dismay crosses Ignis' face as he sees the damage on Noct's body. 

"Aw, hell, Noct," Gladio says. 

"Noct, I am so sorry," Ignis says, but Noct's already shaking his head, wincing at the spike of pain that runs through it. 

"Stop. I don't care how sorry you all are." He gets to his feet, stumbling slightly, wrenching away from the hand that comes out to steady him. "Leave me alone." He makes his way past Ignis and Gladio, intent on going back to his room. 

"Noct, we need to talk about this—" 

Noct whirls around aggressively, agitation evident in every line of his lean frame. "No!" he snaps out. " _You_ need to talk about this. _I_ don't. Not right now. And I'm sick of people forcing me to do things I don't want!" He leaves them then, ignoring their hurt and ashamed looks, and goes into his room, firmly shutting the door behind him. 

* * *

The weekend is fraught with tension. Ignis drags him back to the clinic for more testing on Saturday, and once the doctor learns the truth of Noct's situation, and that it was his first sexual experience, he does all the tests over again, explaining that the old ones are essentially useless because they were taken too soon. Noct doesn't really understand, but he feels too apathetic and depressed at the moment to care, so he merely does whatever he's told and answers any questions asked of him with honesty this time. 

He half expects Ignis to try to apologise again in the car on the way home, but Ignis is mercifully silent, Noct's angry words yesterday apparently having had some impact on him. It's a good thing, because he absolutely doesn't have the mental energy to deal with all of that today. His emotions are bouncing all over the place, flip-flopping rapidly and leaving him worn out. 

For the first time since the party, Ignis doesn't accompany him up to his apartment, instead dropping him off to go up alone. Noct's the only one on the elevator, and he takes a moment to rest his head against the cool wall, closing his eyes and letting out a few shaky breaths, trying not to cry at how overwhelmed with relief he feels at finally having some privacy. 

Cor shows up later that afternoon, having been informed of the truth from Ignis and Gladio both. Noct's curled up on the couch, memories replaying in his mind, and he doesn't feel like getting up when he hears the knock. "Your Highness, are you home?" Cor calls through the door, knocking again. 

Noct sighs and pulls out his phone, sending a brief message. _You can let yourself in._

Cor does just that, raising an eyebrow at him as he steps in from the entryway, but Noct doesn't react, watching him quietly. He comes over to the couch, taking a seat on the end opposite from Noct. 

"Allow me to offer my apologies, if you want them." 

"I don't," Noct says. 

Cor nods as if he'd expected that. "That's understandable." 

"Is that all you came to say?" 

"No. I was hoping you would be willing to give me more information, if you can. Now that we know your encounter was not consensual, there is an even more pressing need to find the kids involved and see that you are given proper justice." 

"Justice?" Noct laughs. It's hollow and brittle, and scares him a little. "Are you actually doing this for me, or are you doing it for you so you can absolve your guilt?" 

Cor looks at him, his face solemn. "I'm doing it because it's the law," he says quietly. "And if it can bring you any small measure of peace, I won't rest until they're found." 

Noct shakes his head, slowly. "I don't care if they're found. Whatever you do to them, it won't undo what they've done to me." 

"You won't help then?" 

For a long moment, Noct says nothing. Then he sighs. "Marcus," he says, and does his best to describe the other boy as he remembers him. 

"And the others?" Cor asks, but Noct shrugs. 

"I don't know. They didn't exactly introduce themselves. I'm not even sure how many there were. It was just... people touching me. And hurting me." 

A nod and troubled frown is all he gets in response to that. Cor takes his leave not long after that, as Noct has little more information to offer him. When he's gone, Noct uncurls and stretches his legs out on the couch, shifting onto his back, then throws an arm over his eyes and cries. 

* * *

His dad shows up the next day, knocking softly and asking through the door to talk. Noct refuses to let him in. When his dad lets himself in, Noct retreats to his room, locking the door behind him. He hears his dad following, stopping right outside the door. 

"Noctis, son, I'm so sorry," his dad says. The words are pained, each one trembling as it's spoken, but Noct tells himself he doesn't care. His dad is no better than anyone else, and maybe worse in some ways—not only had he assumed Noct had wanted that, he'd laid down all those restrictions, and hadn't even bothered _trying_ to talk to Noct about what happened, or seeing if there was more to the situation than seemed. 

"I made a terrible mistake," his dad continues. "I made assumptions and then acted on them without talking to you first. Please, will you come out and talk to me?" 

Noct swallows, hugging his knees to his chest, tears rolling down his cheeks as he listens to his dad talk. Last week he couldn't seem to cry, and now he can't seem to stop. "Go away," he says, his own voice trembling. 

"If you're ashamed, there's no need to be." 

At that, an audible scoff escapes before he can hold it back. He knows his dad hears it, his sad sigh saying more than words could. "What do you feel ashamed about?" his dad asks. 

Despite himself, Noct finds himself answering, the words spilling out of him in a quick burst. "I couldn't stop it. I let it happen. It's my fault they raped me." 

"Ah, my son, my dear Noctis... Please believe me when I tell you, what happened to you was not your fault." 

Noct bites down hard on his lip, digging his teeth into it, trying to keep the sobs he can feel from coming out. He takes a few deep breaths, releasing his lip when he feels he can speak again. "Please, leave me alone. I don't want to talk." 

After a long minute of silence, his dad replies, his tone full of a level of grief Noct hasn't heard since he was eight. "Very well. I'll respect your wishes. Just know that I am here if you change your mind, or need anything." 

"Yeah," Noct says, and listens as his dad finally leaves. 

* * *

Noct doesn't bother going to school the next day. It's the last week, he's not missing much. And he can't bear to face any of his classmates any longer. He's not sure if the truth's out to the public—he can't really see why it would be, not unless Cor finds Marcus and the others—but either way, there will be more whispers and comments and gossip and he can't face one more second of it right now. 

Ignis and Gladio show up at his apartment around the time school lets out, and Prompto's not far behind them. They at least ask for permission to enter rather than barging in, but Noct doesn't feel like he has any real choice in the matter. If he says no, they'll just keep asking day after day until he agrees. So he lets them in, and then retreats back to his familiar spot on the couch, resuming his typical huddled up position. "What do you want?" 

"We would like to apologise again, perhaps properly this time," Ignis tells him as they all come over and sit on the other section on the sofa. 

Noct scoffs, closing his eyes briefly as a dull throbbing starts up in his head, behind his left eye. "Properly?" 

"Our behaviour, mine in particular, has been rather reprehensible, and—" 

"Stop," Noct says, anger beginning to bubble up again. He thought they'd understood he didn't want these sort of apologies, but clearly he was wrong. "You keep making this all about you. If this is all you have to apologise about, then I don't want your apologies." 

They all look confused, frowning as they glance at each other and then back at him, and it's Gladio who finally asks the question. "What else is there to apologise about?" 

Noct's arms tighten around his legs, fingers curling and pressing hard into his knees. "Not one of you has said sorry for what I went through." 

"Noct, of course we're sorry!" Prompto cries, sounding horrified. 

"Then why haven't you told me?" Noct demands, wincing in shame as he hears his voice crack on the last words. He really doesn't want to cry in front of them right now. 

"...I suppose because none of us is entirely certain what you _did_ go through," Ignis says quietly, his eyes serious behind his glasses as he looks directly at Noct. "It feels trite to offer generic apologies." 

"You watched the video." 

"Yes, but have you?" Gladio counters, scrubbing a hand over his face as he sighs. "It's clearly been edited, you can see the cuts. We assumed for time, but maybe it was to take out anything that made it obvious you weren't consenting. Hell kid, even the title for it implied you wanted it." 

"The video was only fifteen minutes long," Ignis says. "It gives us no understanding on how you got into that situation, how you got out of it, or what you truly experienced during it. You owe us none of these explanations, of course, but it leaves us at a loss on what to say, except, perhaps, we are very sorry for what happened." 

Noct closes his eyes at their words, hiding his face in his knees as tears begin splashing down his cheeks. Fifteen minutes. He'd gone through at least an hour of pain and suffering that night, perhaps even more after he'd passed out, and he'd assumed the whole thing had been put online, but now he finds all that had horror been reduced to a mere fifteen minute video. 

"Noct," Prompto says, distress evident in his tone. "Noct, please don't cry." 

"Let him," Ignis says softly, his own voice pained. "He has that right." 

Noct does cry, his muffled sobs the only sound in the room for several minutes. He's still so angry with all of them, and still doesn't want their apologies or their guilt, but... it's exhausting, to hold onto such anger, and he's so damn sad and hurting. He wants so badly for one of them to just hold him and tell him it'll be okay. Yet he's already pushed them all away, screamed at them and told them to leave him alone... he can't ask for that from them now. 

Eventually, he lifts his head again, taking a few breaths and forcing himself to stop sobbing. He swipes an arm hastily across his eyes, wiping away tears. "I want to watch it." 

Gladio frowns and scratches at his head, tilting it some as he looks at Noct. "The video?" 

"I know Cor has a copy. He could send it to your email." 

"Noct, no..." 

"I don't think you should," Ignis says, hesitant. "There is no need for you to relive that." 

"I relive it in my head every day!" Noct snaps. "I'm not asking permission. I need to see it." 

Gladio looks at him for a moment, saying nothing but studying him intently, and then grimly pulls out his phone, sighing as he begins typing something. 

Ten minutes later Noct's sitting cross-legged with Ignis' tablet in his lap, staring anxiously down at the screen as the video begins playing. Prompto's retreated to Noct's bedroom, not wanting to even hear what's happening. Ignis and Gladio have stayed, their expressions worried as they watch Noct. 

The video starts with the laughter and indistinct conversation Noct remembers, and then the blip in the screen, and there he is, naked on the bed with everyone touching him. Bile immediately rises, but Noct swallows hard, determined to get through this. He needs to know what everyone else saw, needs to see as an outside observer what happened to him, how it looks to someone who wasn't there living through it, drugged out of their mind and overloaded by everything going on. 

He keeps his face impassive as Marcus strokes him, as the girl lowers herself onto his face. A brief flicker, and the focus is someone entering him, before it moves back to show the guy fucking him. Noct's own voice can be heard over the sounds of thrusting, low moans and that damn _please_ continuously keening out of him. 

After that, it's more a series of clips than anything else. Mostly brief shots of the guys fucking him, of the girls riding him, of his face as he's made to orgasm. None of the shots are close enough or early enough to show the damage being inflicted as they force their way in him. None of them show how he's being endlessly scratched and bitten and even hit a few times. It's too dark in the room to see the tears on his face. There are only a couple of clips of his throat getting fucked, and they're focused only on his mouth, so that his face isn't showing the distress he's in. 

The two guys fucking him at the same time is the last shot shown. It's zoomed out far enough that it's not obvious he's being hurt, and the conversation Noct remembers before it has been edited out entirely. He watches himself have a last orgasm, and then the screen goes black right before he passes out, the video at last ending and closing, the screen returning to Ignis' inbox. 

Noct sits still for a moment, staring blankly down at the screen. He feels both numb and sick. Everything is replaying in his head again, all of the things that weren't shown, the pain, the despair and desperation, the fear and grief and hatred... it's a worse video in his mind than the one he's just watched on screen, and it has no stop button. 

"Noct?" Ignis says softly. "Noct, are you alright?" 

Noct raises his head slowly, his eyes glassy and unfocused as he looks towards his friends. "I passed out," he says hoarsely. 

"Pardon?" 

"At... at the end. When they were both... Ignis, it _hurt_ , I couldn't—" He's trembling now, on the verge of a breakdown, too overwhelmed to keep it together anymore. 

"Let it out, Noct," Gladio says, leaning over and reaching out to snag the tablet, setting it aside. 

"I didn't _want_ —" Noct hunches over as he finally breaks, violent sobs bursting loudly out of him and wracking his whole body, agony clawing at his heart as intense grief swamps him. Tears saturate his face as he cries for everything he suffered, and for everything he lost in that night, not just his virginity, but for his innocence and trust in the world, his trust in people, his _friends_... and most of all, for the person that he was before, the person that he knows he will never, ever get back. 

"Ignis," he chokes out, desperate and hurting. 

"I'm here, Noct," Ignis says quietly. 

He reaches his arms out towards Ignis. "Please—" He doesn't want to be alone anymore. He doesn't want to carry all this pain by himself. 

Ignis gets up, moving to sit sideways next to him, cautiously extending a hand, but Noct doesn't wait. He turns and flings himself forward at Ignis, one hand latching tightly onto his shirt, the other curling down against his hip as Noct buries his face into Ignis' chest and weeps. After a startled moment, Ignis brings his arms up, wrapping them around Noct in a tight hug, dipping his head down to rest against Noct's. "I'm so sorry," he murmurs, his voice thick with his own grief. 

A large warm hand moves Noct's hand from Ignis' hip and takes it, holding it gently, and Noct tangles his fingers with Gladio's, squeezing hard. "We're here for you, Noct," Gladio says in a low rumble. "We're not gonna let you go through this alone." 

A second hand comes to rest against his back, this one smaller, and Noct realises that Prompto's come back. His best friend starts rubbing his thumb softly back and forth, the touch soothing. "It's gonna be okay," he says shakily, and Noct sobs harder to finally hear someone say it. 

They stay like that for a long time, Noct soaking up his friends' comfort as he cries, until eventually his sobs taper off into tiny hitching breaths and then stop altogether, his tears gradually drying as weary exhaustion drops down over him. He loosens his grip on Ignis, relaxing into him, eyes half-lidded as his head lolls down into the crook of Ignis' right arm. Ignis is still holding him, and right now Noct welcomes the embrace. 

He whines when Prompto takes his hand away, but then Prompto's sitting behind him, squeezing himself into the small space between the arm of the couch and Noct's back, and the weight of him there is reassuring. For the first time since the party, he feels supported and loved. Closing his eyes, Noct drifts into sleep. 

* * *

It's dark out when Noct wakes, and it takes him only seconds to realise he's no longer being held by Ignis on the couch. Instead he's in his room, on his bed, presumably having been carried here by Gladio. He sits up slowly, pressing the palm of his hand to his forehead, the pressure unfortunately doing nothing to ease the dull ache that's there. 

Sighing, he gets up and flips a light on, pulling his shirt over his head—it's soaked in sweat and sticking to his skin uncomfortably, and he can't wear it anymore. There's a full-length mirror on the back of his door, and he glances into it, noting that the bruises have all but faded now, only a faint yellowish-tinge left of them. All of his scratches have healed as well. There's a new scar on his chest, small and ringed around his right nipple, courtesy of someone's teeth. A permanent reminder he'll get to carry around with him forever. 

Unable to stand the sight any longer, he swallows and turns away, getting a clean shirt from his closet and pulling it on. Then he tugs his blanket from his bed, wrapping it around his shoulders, and leaves his room, padding into the kitchen. Ignis and Gladio are there, Ignis making a late dinner while Gladio sits at the table, watching what sounds like funny vines on mogtube. He looks around, but doesn't see Prompto anywhere. 

"Noct. How are you feeling?" Ignis asks quietly as they both look up at him. 

"Head hurts." 

Ignis pauses in his chopping, setting his knife down, but Gladio waves him down, already getting up. "I got it, Iggy." He retrieves the painkillers and a bottle of water, pressing both into Noct's free hand, the one not holding the blanket closed around him. 

Noct takes two, and then hands them back, sliding into the seat across from the one Gladio is occupying. He's silent for awhile, watching Ignis as he works, and he appreciates that for once neither of them are trying to make him talk, or apologise for things. It makes it easier to put aside his anger with them and accept the support they want to give, at least for now. He knows he's going to be angry for a long time, that it's not going to be so easy to truly forgive them, but he's willing to at least start trying. 

"Prompto go home?" he eventually asks. 

"Yes. He said to tell you that you can text him later no matter how late. If you feel up to it, that is." 

Noct nods, pulling the blanket tighter around him. Prompto doesn't like to text after nine on weekdays, because that's when he starts his bedtime routine. He's always asleep by ten so that he can get up early in the morning and go for a run before school. Noct always teases him that he's crazy to get up so early, but he's always respected his friend's routine. It means a lot that Prompto's willing to break it for him. 

He thinks about earlier, of Prompto telling him that it was going to be okay, and wonders if that will ever be true. He _wants_ it to be, but... he feels so broken and un-fixable. He feels so dirty and disgusting all the time, the feel of Marcus and the others always on him, no matter how many showers he takes to try and wash them away. His emotions are so messed up, all over the place, and he can't sort them out enough to deal with them. He has nightmares every night, and he hates himself every day. He doesn't know if he can ever move past this. 

Truthfully, he doesn't know if he _deserves_ to. If he hadn't been so stupid in the first place, none of this ever would have happened. 

"I drank the beer he gave me," Noct says suddenly, quietly. 

The two of them still briefly, and then Gladio pauses his video and Ignis stops stirring the sautéing chickatrice, and they both look at him. "One of the kids that—" 

Noct nods, jerkily, before Gladio can finish his question. "Yeah. I didn't know him, but I didn't want to be rude. I drank it. I'm sorry." 

Ignis turns off the burner, covering the pan before wiping his hands on a dishtowel. "Sorry for what?" 

"It was drugged. It made me sick but I didn't realise. He said he'd take me to a bathroom. I followed him, I—" He's crying again, a few tears sliding silently down his cheeks, breath continuously hitching in fast little gasps as he thinks about how _naive_ he had been that night. 

"Noct, you don't have to tell us if you're not ready," Gladio says, but Noct shakes his head wildly. He _does_ have to tell them, he needs them to know that even if they were wrong, they were _right_ too, because it was all his fault. 

"It wasn't a bathroom, it was a bedroom. It was dark, I didn't know, but he locked the door and then the lights came on and I saw them. I tried to run but I felt weird, and then he threw me at the bed and they put me on it and there was—I couldn't—" Noct stops for a moment, a shudder overtaking him as he remembers the feel of their hands all over him, stripping him. 

"Noct..." 

He ignores Ignis and keeps talking, his words growing more agitated as he goes. "I couldn't _move_ , I wanted to fight, I tried to get a dagger out of my Armiger but the magic felt all wrong and it wouldn't respond to me! I tried but I couldn't do anything! I let it happen!" 

"Noct, kid, you were drugged, that's not letting it happen." 

"No!" Noct gets up from his seat, too upset to sit calmly anymore, the blanket falling to the floor as he forgets to hold it. He starts pacing, from the table to the bookshelves and then back again. "I could have tried harder, I could have fought more, I could have gone home, I could have not taken that stupid drink! I could have done anything other than lie there and let it happen!" 

He halts before the table, intense anger coursing through him, overwhelming and scaring him until he can't stand it, slamming a fist down, startling Gladio, who looks at him with eyes wide and concerned. "It's... it's my fault." His hand stings where he hit it, but it helps lessen some of his anger, so he does it again, pounding his fist against the tabletop over and over in a daze until strong, slender arms wrap around him from behind, pulling him away. 

Noct doesn't fight it. He just goes limp as Ignis holds him, his eyes tracking Gladio as he approaches them, a first aid kit in hand. He's confused at first, until he looks down at his hand to see it bleeding, small shards of glass embedded in it, and he looks over at the table to see the screen of Ignis' tablet shattered, hundreds of tiny cracks spider webbing out from the center. "I'm sorry," he mumbles, ashamed. It scares him to realise he'd lost control like that. 

Neither of them respond, but Gladio pulls up a chair and takes Noct's injured hand into his lap gently, beginning to tend to it carefully. Noct winces as he picks the glass out with a pair of tweezers, but doesn't complain about the pain. When his hand's free of glass and been cleaned and bandaged, Ignis finally lets him go, but rather than move away, Noct whirls around and grabs him in a hug, pressing his face against him, hot tears leaking out to dampen Ignis' shirt. 

Ignis doesn't hesitate this time, bringing his arms back up around Noct again, holding him close. "You're alright," Ignis murmurs to him. "You're alright." He repeats it a few times, as if saying it enough will somehow make it true. 

Noct turns his head to the side, taking a few shaky breaths. "I'm all broken." 

"Aw, Noct," Gladio says, and he sounds as broken as Noct feels. It makes his heart ache with too many emotions he can't separate, and he doesn't like it. Gladio's not supposed to sound like that, not because of him. 

"You're not," Ignis says softly. "You're not broken, Noct." 

A sob breaks free, and Noct tries to swallow it down, because he feels too tired to completely fall apart again, but more follow after the first, so he soon gives in and lets them come, choking out words around them. "I _am_. I can't stop remembering it, I keep dreaming about it, I feel so messed up and dirty, and it's all my own fault..." 

"No. Listen to me, Noct. What happened to you, what you went through... it was in no way your fault. _They_ are the ones who drugged you without your consent, _they_ are the ones who raped you," Ignis says, and Noct flinches to hear the word. He's been saying it himself without being too bothered—it's just a word, after all, or so he's been trying to tell himself—but somehow when it comes from someone else it sounds so much worse. "They gave you no choice in the matter, and made it so you couldn't fight back. _They_ are to blame, not you." 

"Iggy's right," Gladio says. "You didn't ask for it, and you didn't want it. It's not your fault." 

Noct's not sure he believes them, he still feels like they're wrong and he could have done something to prevent it, but he's too worn out to argue. He just stands there and cries until he can't anymore, fatigue sweeping over him and making him feel like he's going to collapse. "I'm tired." 

"Not surprising. You need to sit." Ignis lets him go, and Noct reluctantly allows him to pull away. Gladio leads him to the couch, taking an end, and Noct settles beside him, curling against him and using Gladio's arm as a pillow of sorts. He watches through bleary eyes as Ignis finishes up their dinner, bringing two bowls over to them several minutes later, then heads back for his own. 

Noct's appetite has improved over the past week, but he's not really hungry, too tired and upset to care about food at the moment. Still, he peers into his bowl curiously. It's oyakodon. One of his favourites. Ignis has made him oyakodon. 

He makes an effort to eat, but he can't even manage half before he gives up, shoving his bowl back at Ignis. Ignis takes it, along with his and Gladio's, carrying them to the kitchen. After dealing with the leftovers, Ignis comes back over and sits on Noct's free side, sandwiching him between them. Noct takes the opportunity to scoot further back onto Gladio, Gladio's chest becoming his new pillow, and bringing his legs up to swing over on top of Ignis' legs. 

"Comfortable?" Ignis asks, amusement colouring his tone. He rests his arms against Noct's legs as Gladio does likewise with an arm across his stomach, and it's a little scary, the weight a little reminiscent of that night, but Noct takes a deep breath and reminds himself it's only Ignis and Gladio, and they won't hurt him. 

"Mm. Yeah." He closes his eyes, gradually relaxing as the fear fades, and knows he's going to fall asleep like this and Gladio's going to carry him to his room again. He doesn't mind though. 

He knows the road ahead isn't going to be easy. He's so messed up and broken, and he doesn't know how to fix it all. He doesn't know if he _can_ fix it, not without help, and maybe not even then. And he has so much anger and hatred inside him still. He knows there's going to be days where he can't even bear to look at his friends without wanting to hurt them the way they hurt him, days where the thought of forgiving them just seems like too much. 

But he also knows that despite that, his friends are going to stay by his side. That they're not going to let him go through this alone. They screwed up, and it hurt, but they're here. They're not disgusted by him, they don't think he's weak or pathetic, and they don't blame him for getting raped. 

Noct knows it won't always be, but in _this_ moment, it's enough. He reaches out, feeling for Ignis' hand until he has it, grasping it tightly. Ignis curls his fingers around him, giving his silent support, and, finally feeling safe, Noct sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noct was being _really_ resistant to the comfort in this, he just had _so much_ anger (rightly so). Hopefully the comfort he did finally get was satisfying. It was the best I could get him to accept.
> 
> Also, I have to admit that I was really terrified to originally post the first part to this... like, to the point where I honestly almost didn't. I'm always wary to post a fic that has rape, but I knew this would be an especially hard read because of the aftermath, and I was worried about the reactions people would have... but man, you guys all made me feel so better about it. Thank you so much for all your lovely comments, and a special thank you to Odyssey88 for all your help and patience in answering my questions <3 And also to r3zuri for organising this very awesome week!
> 
> Oh, and I realise I left some loose dangling threads in this... Most particularly, the question of what happens to Marcus and the others. Frankly, I'm leaving that up to you guys to decide for yourself ;D


End file.
